Abby and Ziva's Extraordinary Girls' Night out - revised
by romansilence
Summary: On the way to the 'Garbo', Helen Magnus' Club in Washington, Abby and Ziva are attact. Ziva is knocked out and Abby prooves that she is not as defenseless as Gibbs thinks; but still there is some saving going on and secrets are revealed.


41

Copyright disclaimer: All characters of the Show "NCIS" are the property of Donald Bellisario Productions and CBS. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be made.

Copyright disclaimer II: The characters and background stories of "Sanctuary" do not belong to me, unfortunately, but to Damian Kindler and Stage1Media. I just take them out to play. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be made.

Timeline: Takes place during season 6 of "NCIS" which in my world coincides with season 2 of "Sanctuary". This is a not quite sequel to my story "Rule Number Twelve" in that that it starts before Gibbs confronts our girls in the elevator and grudgingly accepts their relationship, though they do not tell him about its D/s aspect.

Summary: Abby and Ziva are on their way to Helen's Club "the Garbo" and are attacked by the so-called "Lady Ariel" and a band of thugs, intent on maiming or killing them. When Ziva gets knocked out Abby shows surprising abilities in keeping their opponents at bay.

**Abby and Ziva's Extraordinary Girls' Night out**

**By**

**romansilence**

Prologue: Mirror musings

Ziva David, Mossad assassin turned NCIS investigator, stared at her reflection in the mirror and suppressed the urge to pace. I took her a while to recognize the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as a severe case of the nerves. She had not much experience with this feeling. At Mossad a nervous agent did not survive for long. Agents had to have confidence in their abilities. And looking at it objectively; going out with her girlfriend was nothing to be nervous about. But Abby was so much more than just her girlfriend. She made parts of her soul sing that had never responded to anyone else, not even to Jenny Shepard.

When Abby looked at her in a certain way, Ziva wanted nothing more than to obey her slightest wishes. That was not what she had been trained to do, how she had been conditioned to react. Abby had the power to make her see herself with Abby's eyes and she liked what she saw then. Though they only had been together for a little over a month and were still discovering each other's likes and dislikes, wants and limits; they were already sure about the most important thing: that Abby was Ziva's Mistress and brought out a part of her personality she had not even known existed. Yes, Jenny had spanked her occasionally when she had asked her to punish her and once or twice when she had decided that Ziva needed it, but she had never felt as complete and fulfilled as she did with Abigail Scuito, forensic specialist extraordinaire.

They had checked out some of the life style clubs of the city, and going out, wearing the collar with the silvery gleaming skulls no longer felt strange to Ziva. The collar felt as if it belonged around her neck, but this evening was not like the others had been. Tonight they once again would go to the 'Garbo'. The club that belonged to Helen Magnus, the mysterious woman who had raised Abby after her adoptive parents had been killed. Abby had been very talkative and at the same time surprisingly tight-lipped about that woman whose inherent strength and power had captivated Ziva's attention from the first moment. And then she had topped that and had talked to her in Jiddish, a language she had not heard spoken fluently since her grandmother on her father's side had died when she had been ten years old. Ziva had instinctively known that there were more layers to Helen Magnus than she was willing to show.

Among the few things Abby had told Ziva was the fact that Helen's daughter Ashley had first been abducted, brainwashed and then killed by a syndicate like organization that officially did not exist and called themselves the Cabal about a year ago. Ziva remembered that at the time Abby had unexpectedly requested leave in the middle of a case and had been far from her usual ebullient self when she had come back.

Now Ziva knew why: Ashley had been a little sister to the usually happy-go-lucky Goth. Ziva had hoped that those thoughts would cool down her nervousness, but the hard ball in the pit of her stomach kept growing out of control and proportions. The urge to pace or better to run was getting stronger but she did not want to disappoint Abby. So, she cast a last critical glance at her reflection in the mirror and closed her eyes for a moment. As if Abby had only waited for this opportunity, Ziva felt Abby wrap her arms around her, holding her.

"Are you ready, my shining star?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, my Abigail, yes?"

"Then let's go, Zee. It's time. I don't want to be late tonight."

1\. The Attack in the back alley

Half an hour later Abby parked her red Hearse on a dark corner only a couple of hundred yards from the back entrance of the 'Garbo.' They would have to walk around almost the whole block to reach the front entrance. So, they decided to take a short-cut and use the back door. They were walking hand in hand. When Ziva pulled Abby to an abrupt stop just a few meters from an intersection. Abby's excited chatter ceased immediately when she saw that Ziva was using sign language to signal her that they were under observation by people waiting in the darkness for them or someone else to pass.

Abby signed back, "Can we go back to the car?"

Ziva extended her senses backwards without turning around and answered, "I sense that there are at least three people blocking our way."

"Then, let's try our luck."

They walked on, but less than fifteen paces later at the center of the intersection a somewhat familiar voice called out to them, "Look who we have here, the little slave and her stick girl Mistress."

Moments later the woman who had instigated the incident at the 'Garbo' a few weeks ago and called herself 'Lady Ariel' stepped into the light cone created by the only working street lamp in the back alley. Hostility was rolling off of her in waves, but Abby being her usual self tried to deescalate the situation by being polite.

"Good evening, Miss Little. How can we help you? Do you or the people with you have a hearing problem because you feel the need to shout?"

"The proper address would be, Lady Ariel, stick girl. So, you want to know how you and your little immigrant watchdog can help me? I would be thrilled if you could just drop dead right now, but since you are probably not inclined to do me that favor, I came prepared. And this time that arrogant Canadian bitch will not ride to your rescue like the last time with her bodyguards in tow."

"Should you really talk about the owner of this club and quite a few others, for your information: She does not need the bodyguards, they are just for appearances' sake. And the surveillance cameras of the 'Garbo' also go out to the back alley."

"We disabled them."

"We? You and what army, Miss Little?" Abby asked. Ariel raised her hand to her lips and whistled.

Immediately seven people stepped out of the darkness, carrying knives, crowbars, baseball bats and what looked like a police baton.

Ziva instinctively pulled Abby behind her body to protect her.

"Take them down and don't forget; no quarters! Do it for Lady Ariel! Now!"

The seven obeyed Ariel's words instantly, but luckily for Ziva and Abby their opponents were not used to fight as a team. Four of them ran at Ziva brandishing their weapons. Their over-eagerness allowed her to duck out of the way and their weapons clashed over her head. It took them a while to register that their intended target was gone and that the only ones hurt were their fellow thugs.

In the meantime the other three assailants were targeting Abby who had taken one of the defensive stances she had learned from Ziva. One was in the lead running for all he was worth. Ziva let him pass because she knew that her beloved Abigail would be able to handle him. Number two, a baseball bat wielding Valkyrie who was about half a head taller than Ziva went down when she kicked the woman in the sternum. She let herself be carried round with the momentum and hit the third attacker with the side of her hand right on the throat. He immediately gasped for air and went down as well. Then Ziva turned back to Abby who stared with wide, frightened eyes at the man she had levied over her shoulder. He was lying on the ground with open eyes and his neck at an unnatural angle indicating that it was broken, Ziva deduced that he had collided head first with the wall and had then hit the pavement.

Ziva had just enough time to tell Abby with her hands that it had been an accident and that everything would be alright when the first four attackers made another run at them. They had obviously sorted each other out and had come to the decision to do better this time. They attacked in pairs but were not fast or coordinated enough to stand a chance against Ziva's martial arts skills. They didn't even come close to touching her but her own kicks and jabs hit their intended target every time. They went down one after the other.

In her peripheral vision Ziva saw that Abby checked on the dead man and then stepped back against the wall to protect herself from being attacked from behind. She also saw the grim but still triumphant expression on Ariel's face and knew that there were still more attackers lurking in the darkness. The man she had chopped in the throat was gone and the woman was just now getting back on her feet. She raised her crowbar but kept her distance, Then she started to brandish her weapon and the way she now held it told Ziva that she had at least some basic skills.

But Ziva was way faster and ducked under her defenses. She came back up again and aimed a kick against the shoulder; but the woman's momentum let her only hit the arm. Ziva heard the suddenly loud crack that indicated that her arm had been broken in at least one place. The crowbar dropped to the ground.

"Go home, but first find a doctor!"

Despite being in evident pain the woman was not willing to give up. With her uninjured hand she unsheathed the knife at her waist. Ziva corrected her stance and waited for the attack. Her opponent rushed at her and feinted to the left. Ziva ducked and let her pass but made sure that she would stay away from Abby by pulling at her broken arm and compounding the injury by dislocating the shoulder. Instead the woman collided with another wall and was knocked out.

Ziva looked around, she hoped against hope that aside from Ariel their attackers were down and would stay that way for a while, Abby was still visibly shaken by the death of that man and Ariel was nowhere to be seen. Ziva then felt someone coming at her from behind. She crouched a bit, whirled around and exploded upwards with her wrist tilted backwards and the fingers closed to a fist which knocked her attacker far enough backwards to make her drop the police baton she had been holding.

Her face was contorted in anger but she had enough self control to not try herself at another impulsive attack. Instead she whistled a few times, shrill, short sounds and five new attackers seemed to materialize almost out of nowhere. So much for wishful thinking. They were not as foolish as the first group had been to attack without a plan or coordination. Ziva kept them in her peripheral view and turned to Abby. She asked her if she was alright and Abby nodded vigorously but Ziva didn't find it in any way convincing.

Ziva registered that the five men pulled ski masks over their faces and combat knives from behind their backs, but Ziva had already seen enough of them to identify them to whomever would ask. They fanned out in a half circle around Ziva and Abby and Ariel joined their ranks. She also tried to taunt Abby,

"So, stick girl. Now your little alien watchdog will no longer be able to protect you. My boys are trained fighters, not the street thugs you faced before."

Ziva reached back and found Abby's hand. The tension in Abby's body told her that she was on the cusp of starting to argue with the irrational woman. But Ziva knew that this was exactly what Ariel wanted. Ariel showed no such restraint.

"What are you waiting for, boys? Take them down and make sure that they don't get up again. Lady Ariel commands you."

The men signaled each other and stepped forward as one and then the fight was on. Ziva stayed between Abby and the attackers. She was moving so fast she seemed to be everywhere at once. It took Abby a while to see that Ziva was using a fighting style that was very different from the one she had started to teach to Abby. She cleared a bit of space between herself and the men and unsheathed her own knife, but she didn't use it to attack, only to defend herself.

The men kept her busy. Occasionally one of them tried to get past her to Abby but she thwarted those attempts with precise kicks that made them stumble backwards. Abby looked on, spellbound. From her perspective it gave almost the impression of being a well choreographed dance. Until Ariel decided that she no longer wanted to stay at the sidelines and pushed one of the men stumbling towards her from one of Ziva's kicks back in Ziva's direction. He collided with the sharp edge of Ziva's knife, his throat cut deeply but if he got immediate treatment not fatally.

Ziva froze in mid-movement, the other men pulled their companion out of the way and renewed their attack. Ziva was forced to move even faster to keep up with them; then as if summoned from nowhere a new pair of attackers appeared. Their masks were already pulled down but their silhouettes and body language made it clear to Ziva that they were women. One had a knife; the other was holding a loaded miniature crossbow and moved with a feline grace that cautioned Ziva to keep an eye on her.

Just inside of the cone of light produced by the lone working street lamp she saw someone tending to the wounded man. To Ziva it was evident that the appearance of a crossbow on the scene indicated that the other side was upping the ante and that she could no longer hope that they would simply give up if she just kept them busy long enough.. Ariel was hell bent on winning this confrontation and she would not give up until both Ziva und Abby were incapacitated at the least.

That meant that Ziva would have to change tactic. She could no longer afford the luxury to only defend herself and Abby. That also meant that she had to change her fighting style and that Abby would probably get to see a facet of her personality Ziva had never wanted to show to her. The fighting style the IDF and Mossad used and taught was not as fluid and elegant as the Chinese style she had used so far. Ziva used her free hand to sign Abby to stay back and keep her guard up. Meanwhile she slashed at the chest of one of her attackers with her own still bloody knife.

His reaction showed her that she not only had cut through his leather jacket but also the shirt and in the flesh underneath. The woman with the crossbow took exception to that and pulled the trigger. Ziva saw it and was able to catch the bolt, relieved that the miniature crossbow only held one of them or she might have been in real trouble. As it was she didn't even slow her own attack. She kicked another man right between the legs and caused him to cry out, bent over and lose the grip on his knife which fell to the ground. She held her knife parallel to the ground. Her next cut opened the stomach of a third man but did not penetrate deep enough to make his intestines spill out, but the injury was serious enough to take him out of the fight for good.

Ziva ducked an attack by the second woman while the other finished reloading her crossbow. The attack though not unexpected went contrary to her momentum and threw her off her stride for what seemed like a long heartbeat. It gave the crossbow wielder the chance to discharge her weapon again. The bolt missed her only by the fraction of a centimeter. She felt someone coming up to her from behind and from the side. Before she could turn to face the new threat, she was conked in the head by something heavy and hard and swung with force and enthusiasm. Ziva immediately lost consciousness.

The moment Ziva went down her attackers froze, but Ariel yelled at them, still swinging the bloody police baton she had used to hit Ziva, "What are you waiting for, you morons? Your work is only half done. One of them is still standing. I'll take care of the other one and make sure that she'll never get up again."

She turned back to Ziva who was still unconscious and started to kick her in her side, hard; ranting the whole time,

"You should not have embarrassed me in public the other day. Then this would not have become necessary. I could have made a mint from that stupid telekinetic bitch. Only a few more heavy sessions and she would have done everything I asked without hesitation."

In the meantime Ariel's goons had obediently turned their attention to Abby who seemed frozen in fear. So, they took their time approaching her in the hope that she was so terrified to lose her protector that she would give herself up without further delay. Appearances, however, were very much misleading in this case. Yes, Abby was beyond horrified about what Ariel had done and was doing to her beloved, so horrified that it did not even occur to her to be also afraid instead something inside of her snapped and she got angry, no, beyond angry.

When Ziva regained consciousness she saw a number of immobile bodies hazardously strewn all around her. Some of them looked familiar, others, she was sure she had never seen before. Ziva turned her head and had to bite her lips to keep from crying out in pain. Her head was throbbing and her vision a bit blurred when she tried to focus.

She saw that Abby was holding off two men and a woman using moves she surely and truly had not learned in Ziva's self defense lessons. Ziva was driven by only one thought: go and help Abby. She tried to get up but the pain radiating from her ribs made that more than hard. She checked her ribs to find out how much damage had been done while she had been knocked out and found that at least two ribs on her left and one on her right side were seriously bruised or even broken, but there was no time to care about her own discomfort.

Ziva's movements lacked much of their usual grace when she climbed back on her feet and walked slowly over to Abby. About five paces from her lover she saw a knife on the pavement and picked it up. It was a Ka-bar and only then Ziva saw that someone also had slashed her right wrist while she had been knocked out. It was still bleeding profusely. The gash was quite long but not deep enough to be life threatening. Ziva had almost reached Abby when one of Abby's opponents stumbled backwards, his throat cut from left to right. He fell to the ground with a gurgling sound.

Then Ziva saw Abby's hands: they were red and wet with blood. Her fingers seemed to have grown longer by about an inch and her fingernails had been transformed into claws. She looked up and made visual contact with the forensics specialist. Abby's face was even paler than usual and blue veins easily visible. Ziva heard her snarl and saw the tips of suddenly elongated canines. The expression on her face could only be described as fearsome and feral.

It didn't scare Ziva. It filled her with confidence. It was proof that her beloved could take care of herself, especially since her own physical condition meant that in another fight she would not be of much help. She knew she could no longer move fast or strike hard and that every additional strike to her ribs could either break them or could even puncture her lung. But still she had to try to help Abby who had not yet seen her. The spot on the ground where she had been lying earlier was now occupied by the man who had just stumbled past her. Despite the pain radiating through all of her body Ziva felt a presence at her back.

Abby plucked with lightening fast movements a knife from one of her remaining opponents and used it to cut the woman's throat. Ziva heard the distinctive sound of the hammer of a revolver being cocked back; it made her duck and suddenly time seemed to stand still. She saw the bullet fly past her previous position though she knew that she should not have been able to follow a flying bullet with her eyes. She saw that it hit Abby's throat. It injured her jugular and then embedded itself in the brick wall behind Abby.

Abby cried out, blood spurted from the wound, but as if driven by a strange energy she kept fighting. Ziva turned around and saw Ariel taking aim for a second shot, but she could not let that happen. That woman had caused enough damage. She threw the Ka-bar and though it was not as perfectly balanced as her own knives, it hit its intended target neatly and buried itself in Ariel's heart. The woman fell down, a surprised expression on her face, as if she could not believe what was happening to her.

Ziva reached Abby just in time to cushion her fall which jarred her ribs. She looked at her beloved but instead of the familiar green or dark jade she saw only black. Abby's eyes had turned completely black, pupils and irises. Instead of being scared Ziva found the change attractive, almost irresistible. She was tempted to let herself sink into the unfathomable pools of darkness, but there were other more pressing needs to tend to.

She pressed the heel of her left hand on Abby's throat to try to slow the bleeding down, but unfortunately it had little to no effect. Ziva knew that she was quickly running out of time. Abby was losing too much blood too fast. For a moment Ziva considered crying out for help but in this street she feared that it would only attract the wrong kind of attention. She pulled Abby's cell phone out of her pocket but it had no reception as did her own. In other words they had to get out of there before they would be able to call for help. She should pull Abby on her feet and somehow get her moving.

Instead she bent over her and told her that she loved her and that everything would be alright. Abby answered but it was hard to understand even as close as Ziva was, "Need Helen, help now!" Ziva didn't know what to make of that and she was starting to become desperate. There only was one thing left to try and it was doubtful if it would even work it never had in the past. Except for her all the women on her mother's side of the family had special natural healing abilities. Some had a knack for herbal remedies, some literally had the healing touch and rumor had it every few generations ones healing ability was in her blood.

Her sister Tali had had the healing touch and her mother had known everything about herbs but Ziva had never shown any abilities in this direction and when the tribe's shaman had tested her as a child she had found nothing. But now Ziva was quickly running out of options. She had to do something now. So, she followed her gut and acted on instinct. She removed her hand from Abby's throat and put her mouth on the wound. She started to swallow the warm liquid and instead of becoming dizzy or sick from the coppery, sweet taste of Abby's blood, Ziva started to feel better.

But her mouth on the wound was not a solution to her problem it was just a stop-gap. She somehow had to close the wound for good. Her gaze was drawn to her right wrist; it was still slightly bleeding and she instinctively knew that it would not be enough. She just knew that she would need more of her blood to save the woman she loved. Ziva used one of Abby's unnaturally elongated fingernails to reopen the wound at her wrist. When the blood was once again flowing freely she repositioned her beloved in her arms, pulled her head back and held her bleeding wrist over the wound.

Ziva tried not to think about what would happen if her and Abby's blood type were not compatible. Ziva had no idea what or if anything at all would happen. So, she was surprised when the bleeding quickly slowed down, enough to let her breathe more easily. Abby's words were also more easy to understand, "Je t'aime, mon étoile."

"Je t'aime aussi, mon coeur."

Ziva once again put her mouth over Abby's wound and instinctively held her bleeding wrist right in front of Abby's mouth. Moments later she felt Abby's canines bury themselves in her flesh. She knew that Abby was drinking from her just as she was drinking from Abby. That idea alone would feed Tony's fantasies for months and would also prompt the reciting of at least an hour's worth of film titles and the actors playing the main characters as well as DiNozzo's short evaluations of the films. And Tim would probably have trouble to decide if he should keep staring at them or try to look discretely to the side.

Abby's neck had almost completely stopped bleeding and Ziva raised her head away from her lover's throat. Moments later Abby let go of Ziva's wrist and whispered softly, "Je t'aime, mon étoile, mais toi, mon chérie, tu as besoin d'un docteur et Helen est une docteur magnifique. Let's go, my shining star. We can make it the few yards to the back entrance of the 'Garbo'. "

"Are you able to walk, my Abigail?"

"I'm not really sure, but I think I'll manage."

Ziva tried to get up but Abby stopped her, "Wait a minute, I forgot something."

Abby took Ziva's wrist between both hands and brought it back up to her mouth, but instead of once again starting to drink, Abby just licked the wound. Ziva instantly felt a strange tingling sensation running through her whole body. It made her feel comfortable and safe even though her whole body was still aching from the beating she had received after having been knocked out. Her wrist almost immediately stopped bleeding and they helped each other back on their feet. They supported each other and more staggered than walked towards the back entrance of the club.

With every step she took Ziva felt like crying out in pain, but she had been trained to withstand pain and so she stayed quiet. They were only about ten meters from the steps leading up to the back door when Abby lost consciousness. Ziva kept her from falling and somehow managed to hoist the taller woman in her arms. Every step now felt as if it were a mile long she almost fell from the additional weight but she stayed upright with pure willpower and the knowledge that should she really fall now she would not have the strength to get up again on her own.

2\. Inside the 'Garbo'

Against all odds Ziva made it to the door which was opened from the inside before she had a chance to free one of her hands enough to knock. The two body guards she had seen the last time were waiting just inside the door, but Ziva ignored them. Helen Magnus stepped from behind a velvet curtain. She was wearing a body hugging but nonetheless completely unrevealing black leather outfit and stretched her arms towards Abby and Ziva. Ziva handed Abby over without hesitation. Helen took Abby with apparent ease and Ziva, at the end of her strength sank on her knees and said softly,

"Abby needs you. We were attacked on the way here. Abby defended me and she had to kill to do it. I don't know how many of them there were all in all, but I counted about ten bodies on the way in here. I failed Abby, It's my duty to protect her, to keep her safe, but I failed and she had to do it herself I'm so…"

Ziva lost consciousness and fell on the floor of the hallway. Helen put Abby on the ground right next to her and began to check on the Israeli. She looked up, told the two men to bring her car around and find out if anyone out there needed medical attention.

"If that's the case call 911 and we will come up with a believable cover story. But if they are all beyond help arrange the bodies in a way that suggests that a gang war has taken place in our back alley and make sure that the crime scene unit will not find anything amiss, and then call the police. And please, excuse me inside. Tell Georgia that I will make it up to her."

Helen turned her attention back to Ziva. One of the men handed her an old-fashioned doctor's bag before they both left to carry out her orders.

3\. The next day

Ziva cautiously opened her eyes and quickly closed them again. A bright light was hanging right above her, blinding her with its harsh, bright light. The surface on which she was lying, however was too oft and comfortable and warm to be an operation table. She deduced that she was in some kind of hospital and her first thought after that was that she had to go and find Abby.

Ziva tried to get up but found that a strap over her chest held her down. There was a slight pressure at her right wrist and she half expected her wrists to be also restrained, but it was only a fresh bandage expertly wrapped around her wrist. Her ribs had also been wrapped and thus immobilized. It was too solid and tight to take a really deep breath but she could breathe easily. She deduced that someone, probably Doctor Magnus did not want her to injure her ribs any further by acting rashly; it was the only logical explanation for the strap and the fact that she could easily open it if she wanted to, which she did.

Ziva sat up with a loud groan and tried to swing her feet and legs out of the bed, but she had to push really hard to get them to work. She reached up to her throat and found that someone had removed her collar. At first, her toes didn't move, they only tingled. Finally she managed to push herself on her feet, but she didn't trust her own strength enough to also let go of the bed frame. Even with both hands firmly wrapped around the uppermost rail of the metal frame; she almost fell flat on her face when the distinctly female voice coming from behind startled her.

The voice was familiar. It sounded stern and at the same time slightly amused, "Young lady, what do you aim to achieve? Getting out of bed without your doctor's permission, tsk, tsk, bad girl."

Ziva turned around and saw Helen Magnus wearing a white lab coat over an off white shiny blouse and a dark skirt, her eyes were shining with mirth.

"I have to find Abby. I failed her once and I have to be with her to do a better job the next time."

"Abigail is perfectly safe. She is just on the other side of the corridor. She's still sleeping and so should you. And just for the record, Ziva Oana David-Tashenko, you didn't fail Abigail, you protected her and saved her life when it counted. It took my technicians almost the whole night but they were able to reconstruct the video feed from the surveillance cameras in the back alley.

"We know what happened and which odds you both faced. You saved Abigail's life more than once before taking down Ariel Little for good, before she could try to shoot Abigail in the heart and right after that when you somehow sealed her neck wound with your blood. If you had not done that she would have bleed out before the two of you would have been able to reach my backdoor. As far as I know there is no precedent for what the two of you did, but I'm sure that there will be unforeseen consequences. And now, Ziva, get back in that bed and I'll push you over to Abigail's room. I know you will not give up until you have seen with your own eyes that she is quite alright. When you both have rested some more we will have much to talk about. For now you need to rest. With the amount of painkillers you have in your system I am amazed that you even could stand up. You should not be able to do much more than lie on your back and stare at the ceiling."

"I'm on painkillers? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I administered them myself. I know you are still in pain but I did not dare to give you any morphine to combat the pain. Abigail is allergic to morphine and with the amount of her blood you ingested there is no telling how your immune system might react to drugs that strong."

During Helen's last words Ziva climbed obediently back in bed. Everything she had learned so far made her strongly suspect that the charismatic Doctor Magnus just might have more secrets than all of Mossad combined. She trusted her but she still had to know, "Where are we?"

"A safe place; a private clinic in Georgetown, It belongs to an old friend. He's off skiing in the Alps and I have his permission to use his facilities if I have need of them. You were extremely lucky, Ziva. Just a millimeter or two to the left and I would have had to treat you for a punctured lung. You should not try to strain your ribs in any way over the next few days. The MRI showed that there was some minimal internal bleeding but it had already stopped by the time we arrived here. Aside from the still sensitive spot at her neck Abigail was not injured. She is just a bit shell shocked and her body needs time to adjust to your blood. You should not have let her drink from you."

Helen had at least expected some token protest at her admonitions, but her public of one was fast asleep. So, she opened the brakes that kept the bed in place and pushed it out of the room, across the corridor and into Abigail's room where she put the beds side to side. She left them to sleep and recover. As soon as the door had closed behind Helen, Ziva and Abby, both still deeply asleep, started to inch closer together until they were snuggled in each others arms.

About an hour later Abby started to have a nightmare, she was probably dreaming about the things she had had to do to defend them both. Ziva woke up but was not completely alert and started to whisper reassurances and endearments in Hebrew and French. Abby calmed down almost immediately. Then she fell asleep again as well. They woke up when it was already late afternoon and the sun about to go down. They found some scrubs in a dresser, put them on and went in search of something to eat.

They found about a handful more patient rooms with adjoining toilet and shower stall, an OR, an x-ray machine and a portable MRI and other medical equipment, two offices, a sitting room with a water dispenser, a changing and a break room and a kitchenette, that even with the most generous interpretation of the word could not be called a kitchen.

It held two cupboards with plates and mugs and simple glasses, a coffee machine and a boiler for hot water, a small fridge and a microwave oven. Abby decided that they needed something more substantial to eat than the roll of cookies Ziva had found in the back of one of the cupboards and which had expired about three months ago. They were alone in the clinic, but knowing Helen as she did, Abby was sure that hidden cameras were currently monitoring everything they did to keep her informed.

A stack of calling cards in one of the offices told them where they were exactly. Abby called their favorite Chinese Take-out place and ordered enough food for a small army after Ziva had found their wallets, keys, her collar and the belt with the skulls in the other office, but there was not a sign or trace of the rest of their clothes.

Helen's two bouncers stood guard at the main entrance of the clinic.

"Please get back inside. Doctor Magnus left clear instructions. She does not think that with the main perpetrator gone either of you should be in any danger, but she also has told us that the three of you have a lot to talk about and we have to make sure that you stay put for the time being."

"It's alright. We don't want to leave. Without real clothes that might be a tad difficult, but we are hungry and have ordered food. It should arrive in about half an hour, please use this money to pay the delivery people. I might have gone a bit overboard when ordering; so, each of you can keep one dish for himself." Abby said politely but left no doubt that she expected them to do as she had said.

"By the way, do you know what has become of our clothes?" Ziva asked before she closed the door.

"There was so much blood on them we had no choice but to incinerate them, and before you ask we had to reposition a few of the bodies to make the police buy Doctor Magnus' cover story of two gangs fighting each other. We were very careful. There should not be any alarm bells ringing at the CSI unit."

"Do you have any indication if the police really bought the cover story? I have a feeling that there are a lot of loose ends that will have to be tied up." Ziva asked.

"Do not worry. No one will look too deeply into the incident. The boss knows exactly which strings to pull should there be any unexpected questions." One of the men said.

Abby fetched two chairs from the sitting room and offered them to the men then they went back inside and waited for their food to arrive. Abby and Ziva were both ravenous and ate much more than they usually would, but there still was a lot to eat left when they were done. They reheated it in the microwave oven and brought it out to the guards who accepted their offering with a nod and a smile.

The young women went back inside, took a seat on the couch in the sitting room and fell asleep cuddled in each other's arms. That's how Helen found them a couple of hours later. She decided to let them sleep for now and took a seat on a chair facing them and thought back to the time Abby had come into her life as a child.

The loneliness and emptiness in her life had been such a burden that Helen had honestly thought that she would not be able to stand it much longer. But then there suddenly had been this beautiful, smart, friendly child who even then tried her best to hide her fears and nightmares and memories under a sunny disposition. It had been very hard to get Abigail to trust her enough to tell her what had really happened the fateful day those strange men came and tried to abduct her. They did not find her, so instead they had tortured and killed her adoptive parents. Yes, it had been hard but Abigail's trust had also been one of the best gifts she had ever received in her long life, right next to seeing Ashley being born.

Ashley !

Helen wanted to sigh but did not. Thinking about her daughter and the fact that despite all of her connections and her experience she had not been able to save her always hurt like a knife thrust in her heart and then twisted in the wound. Ashley had become such an integral part of herself and of her work. And if she had not encouraged her to work with her at the Sanctuary, Ashley would probably still be alive and would not have become the focus of the Cabal's attempt to destroy the Sanctuary network. If she had not been so selfish to want to keep Ashley at her side, her child would still be alive. It was all her fault.

4\. Talking with Helen Magnus

Helen jerked in surprise when she felt a hand resting on her arm. Abby was crouching next to her, even in the semi-darkness of the room she could see the concern in Abigail's eyes,

"Helen, don't, don't blame yourself. If anyone is to blame: it's them. They tried to turn her into a monster and failed. It's their fault and responsibility, not yours."

"I could have forbidden her to work with me at the Sanctuary."

"That would have been about as successful as trying to stop a tidal wave with a single paper handkerchief or an Absinthe spoon. Ashley never wanted to do anything else but work with you at the Sanctuary, Did you ever hear her rant about the other heads of Sanctuaries? Or about the time when James tried to get her to keep a 10h30 curfew? In her eyes no one was as good as you or as wise or as tough, though she sometimes felt a bit stifled by your over protectiveness. You were Ashley's hero, Helen, always, even after she found out about her father. Don't ever doubt that."

Helen was sorely tempted to share some more memories with Abby, but now was not the right time, they had other important things to talk about.

So, Helen straightened her posture and said, "You should wake up Ziva, Abigail. We have a lot to talk about. What the two of you did might have dangerous consequences."

"Ziva is awake, she told me that we have company and that you were just sitting there, oblivious and a million miles away in your mind."

"Then I should consider myself lucky that your Ziva does not see me as a danger to you, Abigail."

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Helen. Ziva saw the way you walk; that was all she needed to see to know that in a fight you could give her a challenge, but she does not see you as a danger to me or herself, because you patched her up and spared her a stay at a hospital and having to come up with an explanation for her injuries, and Ziva knows that you would do everything in your power to keep me save, just as she does: That's what family does."

"You're right, Abigail. But it's time for full disclosure. Ziva needs to know everything about the Sanctuary Network, everything. When I spoke with her earlier, I was a bit worried that she was so focused on finding you, instead of worrying about herself. What the two of you did, drinking from the other. It could have turned her into a thrall, and there is no telling what other consequences it might have, though I also admit that you did not have much of a choice."

"Ziva seemed completely normal to me, and she already knows the basics about the Sanctuary Network and its mission. She knows that you protect people with special abilities and other unusual beings, abnormals like I am, from the cruelties and the invading curiosity of the normal world and vice versa, but I did not go into much detail, but she also was not really surprised about what I told her. Mossad knows about the Sanctuary Network and so it's no surprise that Ziva already knew. She has been trained for Mossad since her first day at school or earlier."

"Miss Scuito, since you insist on talking about me as if I were not in the room. Why don't you make it more comfortable for all of us and get us something to drink, water for example? Hello, Dr. Magnus, it's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Ziva. I hope you got some more rest after I left you in Abigail's room. And instead of water why don't we all have some tea. We have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, we slept for most of the day, but I didn't see any tea I would like to drink when we looked at the kitchen earlier."

"Americans, they have such a deplorable taste in tea. I came prepared. I knew I would have to bring my own. Frank's taste in beverages is abysmal in other areas as well. He honestly once tried to get me to drink blended whiskey, and one of his nurses offered coffee to me, horror of horrors."

"So, Abby did not get her taste for Cafpow from you, yes?"

"Of course not. I would not want to drink that vile sludge if my life depended on it."

"Strong words, Doctor Magnus. Would you mind if I went with you and Abby to get that tea?"

"You're welcome to accompany us, Ziva. I would not want it any other way. We can sit at the counter and start our talk. Like it or not but you 're part of the family now."

The young women followed Helen to the kitchenette in the break room where she shoed Abby off when Abby wanted to help her with the tea. "Thank you, Abigail, but I'm perfectly capable of preparing a few cups of tea without help."

Ziva took a place at the counter and observed Helen's movements with the feeling that she was witnessing something extraordinary. Deep down she felt that she was seeing something not many people had the privilege to be privy to, that Helen did not usually perform such mundane tasks as making tea in front of an audience.

When the water was boiling, Helen took a jar of cookies from a bag and Abby snatched it out of her hands the moment she had opened the lid.

"Oh, Helen, my favorites, chocolate chip cookies!. You told Biggie that you would see me; that's so great, Ziva will just love them. If one could drink them they would be almost as good as cafpow."

"Abigail how can you compare this wonderful creation with the repulsive concoction you for reasons beyond my ken insist on drinking. I'll never understand how you could have fallen that far away from good taste."

For the fraction of a heartbeat Ziva thought that Abby would now start a debate about the beneficial properties of Cafpow, but she did not. So, Ziva deduced that this discussion was a familiar bone of contention between them.

Abby pulled three palm sized light brown cookies, sprinkled with irregularly shaped pieces of dark chocolate, from the jar and put them on napkins in front of Helen, Ziva and herself, "You have to try them, my Zee, Biggie's cookies are just divine." She said. Then she watched in rapt fascination how Helen measured the tea leaves into the cups filled with steaming water seemingly completely focused on her task.

As soon as the leaves had steeped sufficiently Helen turned her attention to Ziva and started to talk. Over the course of the next few hours Ziva heard a story she under different circumstances would have dismissed as the product of an overactive imagination and pure fiction, but Ziva heard more than just the story and the facts; she heard the heavy burden of many decades of experience resting on Helen Magnus' shoulders even before she learned her real age.

Ziva saw and recognized her strong sense of guilt that seemed to surpass even her own and the pain of seeing those you love grow old and die, over and over again. Helen Magnus did not look like someone who would be turning 160 soon. She looked more like someone in her late thirties. There was no empirical proof for the truthfulness of her words, but if Ziva had learned one thing working with or for Leroy Jethro Gibbs, it was to trust her gut and her gut was telling her that Helen was really telling the truth.

But still her insistence on having been born in 1850 in London was a hard pill to swallow, but Ziva would have had an equally hard time to believe she had been born in 1950. Ziva's eyes widened unconsciously and Helen took that as a sign that the Mossad operative had questions, So she asked, "Ziva, what do you want to know?"

Ziva took a deep breath. She had not expected that Helen would address her directly, "After everything you must have lived through in the last one and a half centuries, why are you so worried about what Abby any I did last night?"

"That was not the first thing I thought you would find questionable, but I will try to give you an answer as best as I can. The main reason for my worry lies in the fact that Abigail is very special, more than she wants to believe and maybe even more than I know; mainly because of her biological father. Ziva? What did Abigail tell you about her biological parents?"

"We never talked about them. It never occurred to me that they could be in any way important. I only know what her birth certificate says. I read it when I compiled the information package about Gibbs' team for my half brother Ari more than three years ago. There was no father listed and her mother died a few hours after her birth from complications the doctors were unable to get under control. The Sciutos adopted her right after her mother's death. That's about all I know. Why? What is wrong with my Abby's real father?"

"There is nothing wrong with him per se, Ziva. The problem is that officially he is dead, officially, he died in January 1943 in New York. His name is Nikola Tesla."

"The Nikola Tesla?" Ziva blurted out.

"So, you already know about him. I guess after what Abigail told me about you, I should not be surprised."

"I only know what I learned in school. I know that he was the most brilliant physicist ever and made Edison frequently look like a clueless school boy. Edison just knew better how to please those in charge of the money and his ideas were not as creative and did not over extend the imagination of his investors. Are you really telling me that Nikola Tesla is still alive? If I'm not mistaken he must be over one hundred and fifty years old at least."

"Alive, scheming and a serious pain in my neck whenever he drops by. He was one of my friends at Oxford in the 1880s, together with Nigel, James and John. We called ourselves the Five. We worked and experimented together and took all part in the experiment that allows me to live as long as I do. I got my hands on some very special blood. We called it the source blood. I distilled a serum from it and we injected all of us but we all reacted differently to it. In Nikola it brought out dormant vampire genes, Nigel's cells became photosensitive. He could make himself invisible at will, James became even more intelligent and observant than he already had been; and John gained the ability to transport himself and anything he can touch or carry anywhere he wanted. His ability drove him mad and he started to kill people. I just age more slowly than other people."

"That sounds just astonishing, Doctor Magnus. What is source blood?" Ziva asked and put her arm tighter around Abby's waist.

"The question might sound strange, Ziva, but it is not. What do you know about Vampires? Aside from the fairy tales Hollywood and the Christian Dogma want us to believe? And, please, call me, Helen, you're family now."

"Nothing, only that there's probably more to Vampires than an allergy to sunlight, garlic, holy water and crosses. My mother's family knows more but the last time I was with them, Their leader, my great-aunt, considered me too young. I was a trained Mossad agent with more than a year of experience in the field, but she decided that I was too young."

"You are no longer too young. Let me tell you some of what I know about vampires. At a time when the so-called homo sapiens was still learning how to talk and how to walk upright, the vampires, the Sanguines Vampires, ruled Earth. They were technologically and physically incredibly advanced much further than we are now. To them humans were slaves and servants and food. In time they became dependent on human blood and centuries later Humans had learned enough from them to rebel successfully against their Masters.

"They vilified, demonized, killed and sterilized the vampires where they could find them. The Vampires died out, except for those who could pass as Human because they were only part vampire. They learned to hide their superhuman abilities for fear of being chased down and killed like their vampire ancestors and over the generations those abilities faded leaving nothing but a dormant genetic marker in their DNA.

"One day I found an old dusty glass bottle in my father's laboratory in the basement while I was cleaning out a shelf to make space for a new project. Most of the things there were useless but this bottle attracted my attention. According to the label it contained the blood of a mammoth. I wanted to know more, so I took it to my own laboratory in the attic. And no, Ziva and Abby, I do not want to hear any 'mad woman in the attic' jokes or stories, I know them all. I ran a few tests and soon found out that whatever it was, it was no animal blood. I had read abut vampires in a few of my father's indexed books, books that had been deemed too dangerous by the church, any church and drew the conclusion that the blood in the bottle had to be vampire blood.

"The blood had interesting properties, too interesting and fascinating to simply let it go. I decided to do an experiment on myself. I created a serum from a small quantity of the blood but my friends from Oxford found out and insisted on taking part in it. At first I refused them. I told them that it was way too dangerous and that I had no idea what or if anything would happen, but they pleaded with me and the force of four pairs of puppy dog eyes of different colour was just more than I could resist.

"I already told you that we all gained different gifts from having the source blood serum coursing through our veins. Aside from longevity I gained a bit physical strength and reflexes. I heal a bit faster than most other people and my memory became almost eidetic. All those enhancements are not readily apparent; so, at first we thought that I had been the only one not reacting to the blood, until James tested a sample of my blood and found out that my cells were aging but almost imperceptibly.

"Nikola's reaction on the other hand had been almost violent within hours he developed an insatiable hunger for blood. I made him promise not to feed on Humans or other sentient beings. John kept him busy by teleporting them all over the world while James and I worked on finding something that would satiate Nikola's hunger. Over the decades he has fine tuned the recipe but it still uses the same basic ingredients. Nikola has always been a big flirt, but with his new abilities he turned into a real, seemingly irresistible ladies' man and he mightily enjoys his successes with the so-called fairer sex, but all of his dalliances and the string of broken hearts he left in his wake have never created any offspring…"

"…until my Abby was born."

"Yes, Ziva, until Abigail was born but I did not know about her existence at first. Nikola and I had parted ways shortly after the Second World War had ended. I first heard about Abigail when I read what had happened to her adoptive parents in one of the sensationalist tabloids I monitor because every once in a blue moon the stories are about real abnormals, not con artists or frauds. Her story rang true. I quickly found out that there was no one who would be able to take care of her. I pulled a few strings with the child protective services and adopted her. I took Abigail home to my Sanctuary in Old City and having her in my life was such a joy that it gave me the courage to carry John's child to term, almost a hundred years after finding out that I was pregnant. Without Abigail I might never have had the nerve to enjoy the best years of my life. I owe Abigail a lot, Ziva, not the other way around as she likes to tell it."

As if in need of protection Abby was now snuggled up against Ziva not even a hair would have fit between them. Ziva held on to her as well. She was all too aware that she had failed in her duty as Abby's protector only the night before and promised herself that she would not fail her ever again. Even the thought hurt. Now was not the time to think about her failure. What really counted was: Abby was alive and well and at her side and she still loved her. That was all that counted, all that would ever count.

Ziva turned her head and looked at Abby's half closed eyes, "So, my beloved Abigail, my heart, my Mistress, Nikola Tesla is your father. That explains your brilliance. It does not explain why you're such a sweet, good and cheery person. I read that Nikola Tesla was full of himself, arrogant and not very personable, but that of course could be wrong."

"It's not wrong, Ziva, and yet it's utterly wrong. Yes, Nikola follows his own agenda and yes, he does not much care about the consequences of his actions most of the time, but provided he does not try to kill you Nikola is as loyal as they come as a friend. Tell him to do something because it's the right thing to do and he will balk and try to find a way out. But convince him that it's wrong but that it's to help a friend and he will move mountains to get it done. Nikola Tesla is a very complex man and he just loves to drink my wine cellar dry. It's one of the side effects of being a vampire. Nikola can not get drunk, regardless of how much he drinks."

"Another nifty trait I did not inherit. I got the ability to kill but I can get drunk or I would not have woken up with some nasty hangovers as a teenager."

"Do not complain, mon coeur. His genes gave you the ability to keep us both safe when my training could not. I'll have to train harder to make sure that you will not have to rely on his genes again any time soon."

"Ziva, I saw you in the sparring ring, making Marines twice your height and weight literally beg for mercy. You did not fail. Your training did not fail. Last night there were simply too many of them for one person to stand a chance. Without you and your stubborn perseverance I would never have made it to the back entrance of the club. You protected me just as you said you would."

Abby pulled Ziva even closer and kissed her. Not a gentle peck on the lips but one of those claiming, possessive, toe curling kisses that tended to leave Ziva slightly dazed. Helen turned her head to the side to give them at least some semblance of privacy. The intensity of the kiss confirmed her deepest fears. Eventually the kiss ended but Abby and Ziva kept looking at each other as if they were alone in the world. Ziva looked into Abby's enticingly green, vibrant eyes and Abby seemed to drown in Ziva's dark orbs.

To Helen it seemed as if they would not be disturbed if a bomb exploded right in front of them; so focused were they on each other. Helen saw the door handle go down incrementally. Only two people knew where she was at the moment. The first was the Big Guy, but he was at the Sanctuary in Old City; the other one was about to come in and surprise Abby and Ziva… or maybe not.

The door was opened noiselessly and Kate Freelander took half a step inside, but she did not get further than that. Her finely tuned instincts for danger told her to stop and duck just in time to avoid being hit by the knife Ziva had pulled from behind her back and thrown towards the door without looking. The tip of the knife embedded itself in the door frame, just where Kate's throat had been moments earlier.

"Doc; you could have warned me that coming in here unannounced is more dangerous than venturing into one of the high security habitats unarmed."

"You can thank your instincts and your reflexes, Miss Freelander, and the fact that Ziva was a bit distracted or that knife would have hit something more vital than a door jamb. She did not even aim that thing. And now let me introduce, Ziva David on loan from Mossad at the NCIS and you already know Abigail Sciuto also of the NCIS from Henry's stories. Abigail, Ziva: This is Kate Freelander. She is part of my Sanctuary team ever since Ashley was abducted. Her knowledge and contacts have already proven very valuable, and she has a knack for dealing with obnoxious police men. So, Kate, how did it go?"

"CSU has not yet finished processing all the evidence, but so far they have found nothing that would contradict our cover story of a Turf war between rivaling drug dealers. The boys from the club have been very careful in repositioning the bodies. So, there should be no problems with inconsistent levidity marks on the bodies."

"Thank you, Kate. I know that it must have taken some fast talking on your part selling the story without giving the impression that you care about being believed."

"Piece of cake, Doc. Your phone call to the Police Commissioner paved the way and after that the detectives, technicians end even their M.E. were very friendly. They even invited me to dinner and coffee."

While talking with Helen Kate had come all the way in and closed the door behind her. She greeted Abby with an outstretched hand and Ziva stepped just far enough aside to allow the contact. She had decided that the other woman did not constitute an immediate threat to her beloved which was in no way equivalent to trusting her just because she worked with Helen.

"Hello, Miss Sciuto, I've heard a lot about you from Hank and the Big Guy can get positively chatty about you."

"Please, call me Abby, everyone does, except for Helen and sometimes Ziva, I prefer it that way." Abby answered with a smile.

"Then who am I to contradict Nikola Tesla's little girl, though he did not mention that you're not so little any more or how beautiful you are."

Ziva put her arm possessively around Abby's waist and pulled her closer.

"He also neglected to tell me that you are very much taken." Kate added with an appreciative once over in Ziva's direction.

"You are right, I'm officially off the market but that goes doubly for my Ziva. She is mine and I do not share. And what I have seen of my father so far has done nothing to fill me with trust. He always tries to get me to do things not quite legal and for no other reason than to cater to one of his whims. I do not really trust him."

"Tesla, I think he is charming and can be extremely scary. Hank is a little bit afraid of him and completely in awe of his brilliance."

"Hank is Kate's nickname for Henry. It confuses him greatly," Helen explained.

"And poor old Will gets a case of the green-eyed monster whenever Tesla makes an appearance and assaults the wine cellar. He sometimes even gets a rise out of the good Doc, only the Big Guy seems to be completely unfazed by the vampire."

"I would offer you something to drink, Kate, but judging by the time you would want coffee and I categorically refuse to have anything to do with the preparation of that sludge."

"Don't get all bent out of shape, Doc. I'll let you talk in private, but I already had enough coffee for one day; any more and I'll crawl up the walls and out of my skin. Oh, and by the way I left a bag with some fresh clothes for the two of you in the corridor. The others were all bloody and had to be burned. Have a good night."

Kate left and Helen put a fresh mug of tea in front of Abby and Ziva, "Relax! Both of you, I do not intent to take your heads off. I'm just worried that you both did not think about the possible consequences of your actions, though so far I can not argue with the results."

"You fear that the influence of my blood will either turn Ziva into a mindless zombie or make her as dependent on blood as my biological father is, but you could just as well fear that I fall under the influence of Ziva's blood."

"That's highly unlikely, Abigail. All the tests we have conducted in the past prove that vampire blood is dominant over every other species' blood on which we tested it and that were more than just a few. Still I need a direct comparison; so, I drew blood from the both of you early this morning and had samples collected at the scene to have a reference point prior to your drinking binge. I'll test them at home and let you know what I find out. In the meantime I would be grateful if you could refrain from feeding on each other, regardless of how tempting it may be."

"I still do not see what you fear, Helen. I do not feel more inclined to follow Abby's orders than I usually do. Abby and I only became lovers after the first confrontation with that woman in your club a few weeks ago. We then decided that we wanted to be more to each other than colleagues at work and friends who live together. We then also decided that we would build on my sporadic need to be controlled and punished for my actions. And Abby made me understand that wearing her collar is more to her than just a game. I liked very much how wearing her collar felt. It feels like it belongs around my neck. Though I would not wear a collar for anyone else. I belong to Abby and the fact that now a bit of her blood is coursing through my veins does not change that in any way. Abby accepts me as I am with all my flaws and darkness and baggage and my aversion against bondage. I have experienced too much of the real deal to find being bound helplessly in any way erotic.

"I understand your need to run tests, Helen, but whatever you may find out it will not change what I feel for my Abby, for my heart. – Abby? Why don't you use one of the computers here and make a copy of my NCIS medical file to give Helen a clean baseline for her tests. Ducky updated it when I returned from Israel. It will also allow her to find out how untainted and pure the blood her people scraped from the pavement really was."

"That's a great idea, my Zee but why don't you do it? I know you have the necessary skills though for some reason you do not want the boys, Gibbs and the director to know that about you. I saw the encryption codes on your laptop, Ziva. That's a skill level far above anything Tony or the Boss-man would ever understand. Why do you hide your skills?"

"It's faster if you crack McGee's codes and you actually enjoy doing it, Abby-mine. And I do not hide my skills, I just do not advertise them. First and foremost I'm a field agent. It's true, I'm not completely useless behind a desk, but it's not who and what I am. I'll do it if I have to, but it's not a challenge I enjoy like getting a suspect to confess without even touching or threatening him or her. Though I have to admit that Gibbs is still a bit better at that than I am."

"You'll get there, my Zee. And now, I'll go and find my way through Timmy's fortress of codes." Abby stood up and Helen said,

"I could not agree more: ´Scoot, young Lady, or to quote, our dear Kate: I'll get cavities from all sweetness and mutual admiration in the room."

Abby copied Ziva's medical file on a flash drive and also made a copy of the reconstructed video footage of the attack in the alley for their private perusal. Helen decided that only time would tell if their sharing had wrought any significant changes in either of them and sent them home with the strict instructions that they should take it easy for the rest of the weekend. She also ordered them to be mindful of Ziva's broken ribs.

Ziva would not be Ziva if she had not insisted that she was already feeling much better than she had earlier that day though the painkillers Helen had administered had worn off by now. Helen in turn insisted on checking her out again and was surprised to find that the vivid bruises she had treated the night before were already starting to turn purple and that the knife wound on her wrist was almost gone. At this accelerated pace any indication that the young woman had almost been beaten to death on Friday night would probably be gone by the middle of the coming week.

Helen was only slightly surprised to see that the bullet wound at Abby's throat was already almost completely gone, only a slight pinkish hue indicated that only the night before there had been a life threatening wound; she had expected that to take another twelve or twenty-four hours. Judging from Abby's childhood injuries she was now healing a bit faster than before but not alarmingly so.

Helen sent them both home and had Kate drive her to one of the apartments the Sanctuary Network kept as safe houses in the Capital, most of them were empty at the moment. They would fly back home after getting a few winks of sleep later that day.

5\. Home again

Abby and Ziva found casual clothes in the bag right in front of the break room door and Abby's hearse parked directly in front of the clinic entrance. Sunday morning was starting to pick up its pace. The church bells were calling their congregations to mass and morning prayer. Ziva asked Abby if she wanted to go but Abby said that she was not in the mood and too tired. Ziva knew not much more about Catholicism than what she had learned in a comparative religion class. But she had gone with Abby a few times since her return from Israel. She never pretended to share the beliefs of the other churchgoers but accompanying her girlfriend in her eyes was a sign of respect. They drove home to their apartment and probably would have fallen in bed to sleep if not for the effect Kate Freelander's choice of clothing had had on Ziva.

Kate had put a pair of cargo pants in the bag for Ziva and a pair of black jeans for Abby. Seeing Abby wearing the skintight jeans had a wondrous effect on Ziva's libido: It kicked it into overdrive. Abby was only wearing sneakers but even without the platform boots she was considerably taller than Ziva.

As soon as Abby had locked the door to their apartment, Ziva started to peel Abby out of her clothes: the jeans, the pink t-shirt with the abstract black swirls, the sports bra. She covered every newly revealed square inch of skin with increasingly passionate kisses and moved them slowly step by step over to what once had been the guest room. She got on her knees to unlace the sneakers and pull them off Abby's feet. She got back up to push down the jeans and panties and draped them over the railing of the bed's footrest.

Her own clothes she stripped so fast one could get the impression that the fabric was on fire. She let them fall on the mattress at the foot of the bed. Abby helped her to tear them off. The moment all of Ziva's smooth, tanned skin was revealed to her viewing pleasure, there was no stopping Abby and all thoughts of being tired were eradicated. Abby's mind was now focused on gratification of quite another kind.

Abby's hands and mouth were on Ziva and vice versa and it was a minor miracle that they did not get in each other's way. Their kisses and touches looked like a well choreographed dance, not like a groping session out of control. After a while Abby found herself with her back to the bed and Ziva pushed a bit too hard. They stumbled and landed on the mattress. After the first moment of surprise during which Abby's eyes had widened in shock, Abby started to laugh.

Ziva slid a bit to the side, just enough to make sure that not all of her weight rested on Abby and joined in. The laughing and the movement jarred her ribs and she let herself roll completely on her back which unfortunately made it all but impossible to keep touching her beloved Goth. Ribs be damned, Ziva rolled back on her side and started to kiss and lick the spider web tattoo at Abby's neck. She kissed and licked and explored it with a loving gaze so intensely as if it had just materialized on Abby's skin and she would be seeing it for the first time. Abby raised her head a bit to grant Ziva better access and pulled a pillow down as a neck rest; that allowed her to reach Ziva's side and left breast.

Ziva's nipple was already hard and pebbled and Abby reveled in its texture under her fingertips. Abby shifted a tiny bit to also be able to touch the other breast and nipple. Ziva's attention was still focused on Abby's neck and the spider web tattoo. Her weight rested on one elbow and the other hand and arm were free to touch Abby's shoulder and back and retrace the contours of the upper arm of the cross on her back.

The feeling of energy flowing from the ink of the tattoo into the tips of her fingers seemed stronger than usual but Ziva was not in the mood for rationalizations at the moment. She usually just enjoyed the feeling and let the energy flow. This day Ziva for the first time tried to direct the energy flow and for reasons beyond her understanding it worked.

The pain from her ribs decreased the longer she touched and stroked the tattoo. It allowed her to get closer to Abby and nuzzle the other side of her neck, especially the small patch of skin that was still a bit pinker than the rest, but that was the only sign that in this space less than 36 hours ago there had been an almost fatal wound, making her almost bleed out on the spot. For the fraction of a heartbeat Ziva was tempted to bite down to once again taste Abby's intoxicating, addictive, coppery, sweet, strengthening blood, but she didn't. Her restraint, however, had nothing to do with respect for Helen Magnus' cautioning that they not drink from each other without dire necessity.

She didn't do it because Abby's touches were just too distracting. Abby's hands and Abby's skin seemed to be everywhere. Ziva just had to do something about that: So, she raised her leg and wrapped it around Abby's thigh and hip and let her free hand slide from the tattoo down to Abby's hard nipples. Their touches and nibbles and kisses grew steadily more passionate and intense and neither Abby not Ziva spared a single thought to their supposed roles of Mistress and submissive.

They were just two women making love and reaffirming their connection in a primordial way. A few hours later they finally fell asleep, completely sated and exhausted. It was a quarter to three in the afternoon when Ziva woke up and found herself safely cradled in Abby's arms. Abby was still asleep. As usual she looked innocent and absolutely content with the world. Ziva loved observing Abby in sleep. It would have been perfect if she could also see the vibrant green of her eyes. Ziva reluctantly admitted to herself that she should probably get up and get a bit of exercise in, if only to have done at least something useful that day, but she could not get herself to move. Her need to stay with Abby and keep looking at her beloved was stronger.

-x-x-x-

And then Abby's eyes opened and she pulled Ziva in a more passionate embrace and kissed her. When they had to break the kiss to breathe she asked, "Salut, mon étoile, est-ce que tu as bien dormi?"

"Oui, mon Coeur. J'ai dormi bien, et toi? J'ai besoin de toi. Je t'en pris, fais moi jouir, s'il te plait. Mon Abigail, ma Maitresse."

"Is this what you really want, my Zee? Then I have an idea what we can do about it, but we'll have to get up and go over to the other room. It's high time that we had some fun in my coffin, if you're up to it."

Unable to resist such a challenge Ziva said, "Mais oui, mon coeur, pour toi, tout, toujours."

They went over to Abby's official/former bedroom and Abby ordered Ziva to get in the coffin and lie on her back. Ziva arched her left eyebrow at the unexpected change in tune but obeyed without hesitation. The coffin was large enough for two people to be comfortable provided they were somewhat intimate. Ziva's surprise increased when Abby didn't join her but walked over to the toy cabinet. Her position in the coffin lying on her back kept Ziva from seeing what Abby was doing. Abby ordered her to close her eyes. She did and moments later she felt Abby close by and her Mistress told her to hold on to the edge of the coffin's head board.

Ziva was curious to find out what Abby had in mind. She obeyed and something touched her wrists, Abby was wearing mink mittens. Abby had used them a couple of times in the bed and Ziva shivered in remembrance and anticipation at what the silky fur would do to her skin. She longed to open her eyes and read the expression on Abby's face, maybe ask her what she had in mind. Obeying was always easier when she knew in advance what would happen, but Abby removed one of her hands and put her thumb over Ziva's lips and whispered in her ear, "Do not move, except when I tell you, my Zee. Do not speak or moan or whimper. Don't forget, you are mine, now and always."

In that moment Ziva understood that she was no longer dealing with Abby but with Mistress Abigail, her voice though only a whisper had that special authoritative air Ziva found impossible to resist, not that she had any intention to even try. Ziva nodded in answer and the hand returned to her wrist. Both hands ran over her fingers and slid along her forearms, sometimes barely touching the skin, sometimes Abigail's thumbs and fingers gave her a quick squeeze, following no discernible rhythm. Abby's touch did not linger on the forearms. She touched the elbows and began to rub them as if she were massaging them.

Then her fingers wandered to Ziva's upper arms, and up to her shoulders, they got more loving attention. Ziva had to focus to keep her hold on the rim of the coffin. It was almost the same sensation as being told to hold onto the bars of the bed's headboard in the other room, but it was more intense and that was visible in the play of her muscles.

Ziva knew that her Mistress enjoyed seeing her efforts to hold on. However, it usually took her longer to react that way. Usually her Mistress was already paying attention to her breasts before it became difficult to keep her hands in place. Ziva fervently wished that her fingers would still be on the tattoo on Abby's back. She was convinced that it would help her to stay focused instead of getting lost in the sensation of being touched with/by the mink mittens. She was sure that it would allow her to focus at least a part of her mind on thinking.

She needed to know if she really followed Abby's commands more easily now, if she really could not say 'no' any more or if the feeling was just a trick her mind played on her, a reaction to Helen Magnus' expectation that she would turn into Abby's thrall. Helen knew so much about Abby's ancestry and the power of her blood, when she thought that Ziva in the long run would turn into someone unable to make decisions for herself than it probably would come to that.

Looking at it rationally the thought alone should be terrifying. Ziva had always prided herself on being her own person even at a time when Mossad and IDF training had tried to pour her into a pre-existing mould. She finally decided that feeling the fur mittens on her skin and holding on to the coffin was in no way different than the times Abby had teased her with the mittens in bed and had made her hold on to the headboard. She didn't want to rationalize anymore; she just wanted to feel.

Her closed eyes and her Mistress' orders to stay quiet made that a lot easier. Abigail's fingers were now running along the edge of the bandages protecting Ziva's ribs and holding them in place. Her peppered nipples were just looking out from under the gauze and her breasts were straining against the pressure. Her heart was beating faster than normal. Ziva expected Abby to skip her ribs and instead start touching her waist and sex and between her thighs, but her Mistress was not that predictable. Her ribs protested a bit at Abby's touch but she didn't let it show.

The angle of Abby's touch told Ziva that her Mistress must be kneeling or crouching right next to the coffin. Then the slight pressure on her ribs was gone and she felt that Abby was moving away from her. She desperately wanted to see what was going on, but her Mistress' orders had been clear and unambiguous and Ziva did not want to disappoint her; more than anything she wanted Abigail to be proud of her.

Ziva felt herself getting restless, but then the touch of Abby's fur covered fingers was back, this time on the soles of her feet, one of the few places on her body where she was really ticklish. It was an enormous effort not to burst out laughing or worse giggling. Ziva hated hearing herself giggle; it sounded so girly and she did not like it. On the other hand she loved hearing Abby's giggle; it sounded light-hearted and endearing, not girly.

Her whole body tensed up when the tickling became more intense. Over the last few weeks Abigail had taught her to hold still even when being teased or tickled or otherwise stimulated. Slowly, holding back had been getting easier; waiting for her Mistress' permission to move had been getting easier instead of acting on her own impulses.

However, for some reason that day it felt in more than one respect as if she were doing it for the first time. It was so hard to hold back, but she also was convinced that it would be worth the effort. A tiny part of her was relieved that Abby had ordered her to keep her eyes closed, that did not keep her from regretting that she thus could not see the expression in her Mistress' eyes and on her face; seeing those intense dark green eyes darkening to a smoky jade other than in her imagination just might have pushed her over the edge and into an unauthorized orgasm.

And as much as she longed for release she did not want that. During the first week of their time together, as Mistress and submissive, Ziva had had two orgasms without permission. Abigail had immediately stopped what she had been doing and had forbidden her to touch her for the next twenty-four hours. Ziva had adapted well to Abby's tactile personality and not being allowed to touch her even in passing had been very hard. After the second orgasm it had even been forty-eight hours. Two days and nights Ziva spent looking pleadingly at her Mistress and staring at the ceiling in the living room all night while trying to sleep on the couch.

Ziva could only remember three times in her life when she had felt worse than during those two days of her punishment; after her mother's, Tali's and Jenny's death. Abigail's hands were now roaming over her calves and shins but the soles of her feet were still tingling as if something would still be touching them. Ziva's lower legs were by far not as touch sensitive as the soles of her feet. Ziva started to relax, marginally. She did not dare to loosen her hold on her self-control for more than a fraction in anticipation of her reaction to her Mistress' touch at the hollow of her knees and the inside of her thighs. She knew that she was dripping with need and in arousal.

-x-x-x-

Once again Abby did not do what Ziva had expected; she did not let her hands slide over her knees and along her thighs to end up where she wanted to be touched most: at her sex. Her Mistress took her hands away and repositioned them on her right foot. She put Ziva's heel in the palm of a hand and raised the leg high above the rim of the coffin. Ziva had to strengthen her grip on the board over her head to hold her position. Abigail stretched her leg until it was straight and then guided it to the side. She made her bend her knee and hooked her leg over the side wall of the coffin. Then she did the same with the left leg. Ziva didn't need her eyes to know that the position opened her up and exposed her sex and labia to her Mistress, for her viewing pleasure or for easy use.

Ziva suddenly realized as if in a flash that in this position she was extremely vulnerable and that it would be easy to subdue her, keeping her from protecting her beloved; Ziva snorted: she had already failed Abby in that regard Friday night. Abby had not needed her protection. Ziva felt her heartbeat pick up, but not in arousal, in embarrassment. She had failed her "coeur bien-aimé" once. She could not afford to do so again.

She started to raise her legs and sit up , but her Mistress stopped her, "Mais non, mon étoile, ne bouge pas. Je te veux bien ouvert pour moi. Detends-toi et jouis! Je t'aime, ma Zee, mon étoile resplendissante. "

To emphasize her words Abigail pushed Ziva back down and once again sealed her lips with her fingers. She then pushed the bandages down and revealed Ziva's beautiful globes entirely. The touch made Ziva's whole body shiver in anticipation, but her Mistress' touch had made it abundantly clear that she did not even want her to beg for release. It took all of her considerable self-control to hold her position but she could not help the disappointed sigh when Abigail once again removed her hands, instead of continuing to play with her needy breasts.

"Do not move, my shining star. I'll be right back, my Zee, my beautiful, my …, mine."

Ziva strained her hearing. She was certain that Abby was getting something from the toy cabinet, but what she heard was not distinctive enough to allow her to identify what her Mistress was doing. Ziva knew that she would already be back had she only selected a flogger or another implement.

Her Mistress had never used an implement on her without warning her first and warming her up with a hand spanking on her behind. Her current position, artfully arranged by her Mistress, however made an over-the-knees spanking practically impossible. That only left a pussy and thigh whipping as logical alternative, but discipline of the corporal punishment kind was not what Abby had in mind for her shining star and it was something she rarely did.

Ziva felt that her Mistress stepped into the coffin and got on her knees in the now empty lower part. She had removed the mittens and let her hands slide over Ziva's inner thighs and almost up to her sex: just where Ziva wanted and needed to be touched most. Ziva was dripping wet and the closer Abby's fingers moved to her sex the harder it became to hold her position and stay quiet as ordered.

Abby removed her hands completely and Ziva immediately felt abandoned and alone. Then something wonderful happened: Her Mistress started to play with her pulsing clit and her pussy lips, and she took her time, teasing her beloved submissive. A few minutes later that only seemed like moments to her she felt something relatively firm at her entrance. Abigail's other hand guided the tip of the dildo in her vagina. Its other end was fastened to the harness Abby was wearing around her hips. Ziva recognized the kind of artificial phallus Her Mistress was using on her when she entered her as deeply as she could. It was a feel-doe, very thick and longer than any her Abigail had ever used on her. It filled her completely and felt as if it had been made with her in mind; it was such a perfect fit and Ziva asked herself why her Mistress had never used it on her before.

Abby pulled it out a bit and Ziva had to suppress a disappointed groan, fearing that her Mistress would remove it again. But instead Abby moved to the side and pushed back in; moved to the other side and withdrew again. That circular movement created continuous friction, combined with the still ongoing teasing of her clitoris. It drove Ziva quickly to the brink and let her reach her limit. Ziva felt as if she would burst into a thousand pieces any moment, but the she heard Abby's long anticipated order, "Jouis pour moi, mon âme."

Ziva's body immediately shock as if waves of electrical current were flashing through her body. Her sex and pelvis were pinned down under her Mistress' body. She cried out Abby's name loud enough to potentially be heard over at the Navy Yard, raised her legs and closed them around Abby's hips, holding her tight and in the same move anchoring herself.

Her face was a study in bliss and abandon and if Abby's toy had been a real penis she would have come from it being massaged by Ziva's inner walls. As it was she let herself get carried away by Ziva's not completely unexpected reaction and let go of the tight reign she so far had had on her own arousal. The arm carrying most of her weight started to tremble from the strain. Her clitoris was pulsing and her G-spot felt as if it was clenching around something. Her last coherent thoughts before she came was to marvel about the facts that Ziva's eyes were still closed and that she was still holding on to the headboard of the coffin.

Even in complete abandon Ziva rarely gave the impression of losing control. Ziva had hooked her feet one over the other and held Abby tight, but not tight enough to immobilize her completely. The circle her movements described was smaller now but she had not to stop and it took about all she had not to - while in the grip of her own orgasm. Ziva's orgasm ebbed out first and she somehow managed to roll or push them both to the side with the phallus still deeply embedded in her center. The movement shifted it and she gasped at the sudden change in pressure. Abby tried to pull out, but Ziva let go of the headboard and pulled her beloved Goth closer, "Are you alright, my Zee?"

"I'm better than fine, my Abigail. I'm perfect, thank you. We should have done that sooner, yes? Your coffin has so many possibilities; it's amazing."

"I should get up and remove that thing from you."

"No, Mistress, please don't. I love feeling your toy in me. It feels so good, please make it stay."

"How could I resist that pleading expression, my Zee, but we should not forget that the lubrication that is so abundant now might dry off if I keep it in too long, and then I'll hurt you if I try to remove it."

"I doubt that that will happen any time soon, my Abigail. All you have to do is to look at me a certain way or touch me and lubrication will not be a problem, yes?"

"I see that you have it all figured out, my star. Let's get some rest now."

"Yes, Mistress." Ziva gave Abby a provocative smile but put her head on Abby's shoulder and closed her eyes.

They fell quickly asleep. Ziva was as usual the first one to wake up. She raised her head and looked down on Abby's sleeping face. They had moved in their sleep, not much, but enough for the dildo to slip out. Ziva's stomach was grumbling with hunger. Their last meal had been the Chinese takeout the afternoon before. And if she was hungry Abby was probably ravenous.

Ziva woke Abby up with first tiny and then increasingly passionate kisses. They took a long shower that used up all of the hot water in the apartment and decided to try out the new restaurant that had just opened down the street and that Abby had wanted to try since day one. It was called "the ewe and the lamb" and was said to have a kosher menu. Ziva called to reserve a table and they were in luck.

Abby being her usual, friendly self quickly struck up a conversation with one of the two owners. Owning and running their own restaurant had been a long held dream for Benjamin and Samuel Sternheim. To realize it they had worked in an upscale restaurant in New York as Chef and Maitre'D.

Benjamin had taken one look at Abby's and Ziva's unconsciously held hands and led them to a small room adjacent to the two kitchens and decided that it was time to take a short break. Samuel was not only the maitre'D and Chief accountant and Benjamin's partner. He also was a big flirt and playfully hit on Abby and Ziva.

He let it slip that he had fallen in love with Benjamin in Paris where he had worked on his MBA at the Sorbonne and Benjamin had attended "'L'institut des sciences culinaires", they had switched from English to French. Samuel told them about the adventures of two Americans in Paris and soon had half the restaurant in stitches. Well, at least those guests who had at least an inkling of the French language and there were more of those than Ziva would have thought. Laughing at their antics, even talking about something that at the time had not been particularly funny.

Their order arrived and they sat down to eat. The food was great and they promised to come back soon. The restaurant had been almost fully booked and the few free tables quickly filled with walk-ins. So, there was no time for further chats.

-x-x-x-

Abby and Ziva returned home and got ready to sleep. They both had a long week ahead of them. Ziva was about to climb in bed under the comforter when Abby stopped her.

"Oh no, my Zee. There is something we have to do before we can sleep. On the way home from the restaurant it occurred to me that you have been very naughty earlier. By breaking position in the coffin you disobeyed my orders, not that I minded at the time, but as a responsible Mistress I decided that I just can't let such bad behavior slide without consequences. In other words: You, my lovely star need to be punished.

"I'll give you a nice over-the-knees spanking, one you will still feel tomorrow when you sit at your desk doing your paperwork, but that's not your punishment. I know that getting spanked this way makes you horny. As punishment you're not allowed to have an orgasm until I give you permission, and I do not think that I will feel inclined to do that before late tomorrow afternoon or evening.

"If I were really as stern a Mistress as I should be, I also would make you sleep alone in the living room. But that would also be a punishment for me. I sleep better, when I have you in my arms and I'm not in the habit of punishing myself. And now, my sweet Zee, I want you to go to my room and take a middle-sized leather paddle from the toy cabinet. I'll warm you up with my hand first and then I'll switch to the paddle. Is that alright with you, sweetie?"

"Yes, Mistress. But why don't you just spank me hard enough to drive away all my arousal , to make it really count as a punishment?"

"That's easy, mon étoile, I don't want you to associate spankings with punishment. I prefer using them as foreplay. Should I ever want to give you a punishment spanking, paddling or caning, I will make sure before we start that this time you will not get aroused, baby, and now, scoot!"

Ziva obeyed and was less than a minute later back with a long, sturdy leather paddle. She positioned herself on Abby's lap after she had pulled her shorts down and made sure that the weight of her upper body rested on the mattress. Abby immediately started to spank her. She peppered Ziva's behind with quick hard slaps.

Ziva tensed up at first but after about ten strokes she relaxed and started to become wet. Her Mistress maintained her rhythm and switched to the leather paddle when Ziva's tanned skin had acquired a dark pink hue. She flinched at the first stroke of the paddle. She turned her head and tried to make visual contact with her Mistress, but the Goth was so focused on her spanking that she missed it.

By the time Abby stopped there were tears burning in Ziva's eyes, her inner muscles were clenching, her clitoris pulsing. She longed for release. Abigail started to caress her beloved's now bright red buttocks and told her that she was proud of her and that she loved her and that it was time to get some sleep. Ziva stood up and climbed under the comforter. Ziva knew better than to try and beg for release. When her Mistress had come to a decision about a punishment she was consequent and saw it through.

Ziva was so wet and ready; she was sure that she would not even get five minutes of sleep that night. The paddle she had chosen had hurt more than she had anticipated, but then she remembered that leaving her burning need unfulfilled was what her Mistress wanted and she quickly fell asleep.

They caught a new case on Monday afternoon that kept them busy for the rest of the week. Friday evening when they returned home from work a message on the answering machine told them to call Helen back at their convenience.

Abby checked the machine when they were ready to leave the apartment for a night on the town and called the Sanctuary in Old City.

-x-x-x-

6\. The all-clear and more work

Helen picked up at the third ring, "Abigail, thank you for calling back so soon. I have the results of most of the tests. Could you please put me on speaker phone. I don't want Ziva to feel left out of our conversation. The tests made one thing very clear. Usually vampire blood subdues the specifics of other blood, yours does with any one else, but mixed with Ziva's blood there is no fight for dominance. Combined the two blood samples form a symbiosis the like of which I've never seen. At the moment I can not tell if that will have any practical consequences for your every day lives, but I imagine it will make both of you stronger and give you a stronger sense of the other. I want you to keep me appraised should either of you start to see any changes in herself or the other or should you observe something changing between you. I also want you to call me the moment you feel the strong urge to drink from each other.

"I know you already did that; so it could be considered water under the bridge; but doing something out of necessity or doing it to satisfy an urge are two completely different things. The first thing I did after we had figured out what was going on with Nikola was to make him promise never to feed on Humans or other sentient beings and as far as I know he has kept that promise. Luckily you did not inherit his dependency on some of the nutrients found in Human blood; so I never asked the same promise of you, Abigail. Your sharing with Ziva changed things and I don't want you both to become dependent on drinking from the other."

"No problem, Helen. I promise that I will only drink from Ziva if there is no other choice and that I will only let her give me her blood when it's a question of life or death."

Abby saw Ziva bristle at the promise she had just made and at Helen's arrogance practically asking that of her, so Abby added,

"I understand your concern, Helen. You do not want us to become so used to the taste of the other's blood that we can no longer go without it. It would make us weak and dependent; and there is also the danger that we would be tempted not to stop with the other but would start to go looking for other sources. The pure Vampires the original 'sanguines vampires' needed Human blood to survive, but they took much more than they needed, They had become so addicted to the taste that they did not even consider to look for other food sources though scientifically they had been far enough advanced to develop alternatives and ultimately that was their downfall. You don't want our sharing to turn into a weakness.

"By the way, Gibbs now knows about us. He confronted us in the elevator a couple of hours ago. He accepts our relationship as long as we keep it out of the office and the lab, even though it breaks rule number twelve, one of his most cherished rules. We will tell the others over dinner the next weekend off. Not, that Ducky will be surprised. There is not much that can surprise him and from the way he sometimes looks at us I'd say that he at least suspects that we are in a relationship. But I am sure that Tony and Tim and Palmer have no idea."

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his rules…, that's poppycock if you ask me. "Never date a co-worker." It worked out just fine for me and James, though I admit that in some cases it can have unpleasant consequences for one or both parties involved, and Dear James certainly was not your average co worker. And that other one I recall is worse still. "Never apologize; it's a sign of weakness." That is totally nuts, apologizing is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of insight and personal growth after one has done something wrong.

"Though I personally do prefer the people around me to act in a way that does not necessitate apologies of any kind. And do not let me get started about those other strange ideas of his. Sometimes, I think it would be worth the bother to get to know the man but I simply don't have the time for that."

"I've been telling you for years, Helen, You are both such no nonsense people. You'll either hate each other on sight or you'll become best buddies."

Helen laughed at that.

"Oh, Abigail… If it were up to you, you were out of a job and the Sanctuary network would not be necessary. Abnormals and normals would not harm each other or spent incredible amounts of energy and money and creativity and time on finding better ways to do just that.

"But to set your mind at ease; I promise, I will arrange for a few days off soon to visit with you and Ziva at NCIS; just to get a closer look at this marvel of a man. And I'm sure that I would find Doctor Mallard to be delightful company. You know that usually my trips to Washington are business related to keep my Sanctuaries in the loop on what is going on in the intelligence community at the moment. In the meantime just keep me informed should there be any changes with you and Ziva. Especially if you should suddenly develop an allergy to that vile vaguely coffee like concoction you love to drink."

"We will, Helen, but you don't have to worry, we are fine. Ziva's ribs are completely healed and the bruises are gone."

"That's good news but to be sure you should sneak into autopsy and take a new set of x-rays. I'm sure you find a way that will keep security in the dark and not alarm Doctor Mallard. And now, enjoy the rest of the evening. Good night, girls."

"Good night, Helen, and give our best to the rest of the crew, especially Biggie and Henry, if Henry still remembers that his name is not really Hank."

Helen laughed and the receiver at the other end clicked. Initially they had planned on going out but instead of grabbing their coats, Ziva scooted closer to Abby, sat on her lap and started to kiss her thoroughly. It took another hour before they once again were ready to go out. This time there were no unpleasant encounters and no one made any snide remarks about the collar Ziva was wearing. They spent the night heating up the dance floor and when they returned home at about 4h3o in the morning they were both so powered out that all they wanted to do was to get some sleep before starting the weekend, but that was not to be.

A few minutes before 6h30 the ring tones of their cell phones propelled them out of each others arms. It was a disgustingly cheery and awake Gibbs who told them to get up, grab their gear and come down because they had a case. Ziva asked to drop Abby off at the Navy yard, but he insisted that she should come with them this time. Tim was already waiting in front of his door with his backpack thrown over his right shoulder when they picked him up on the way to Tony's. They made a short stop for a round of coffee for everyone and an extra big Cafpow for Abby.

Tony, of course, was still under the shower and far from ready. Gibbs decided that they had already lost enough time and could no longer delay things and that Tony would join them later in his own car.

This Saturday morning set the pace for the next few weeks and forced Abby to post pone their plans for a home cooked team dinner for almost a month. When things finally started to calm down Ziva surprised her team mates with a well thought out four course meal that included either the favorite dish or ingredient of every guest.

Tim tried not to show his disappointment that his idea of bringing the two agents of special agent Tibbs' team together as a couple had been completely off target. Tony, of course tried unsuccessfully to hide his evident surprise and tried in vain to make everyone believe that he had known all along. Everyone, including Jimmy Palmer, seemed genuinely happy for them and when Tony had the audacity to remind Gibbs of Rule Number Twelve, he just said that under certain circumstances some rules were meant to be broken.

**Author's note:** As you have just read there are a few snippets of French in the story. They should be more or less self-explanatory, but let me know if You need a translation and I'll provide a list.

T H E – E N D


End file.
